You don’t bring me flowers.

Or take me to Chelsea.
You do however sing me love songs.
Maybe one should find a flower buying Russian? Apparently they are rife in Chelsea. But would they know all the words to G.M?

Every year one threatens to put it in the diary, every year one is surprised and caught out ( really?) having failed to make a date.

Wasn’t it delightful seeing our monarch having a day off ,kicking back in her hair net and spending time in the garden?


If one doesn’t have green fingers one can pay someone that does.


Joan Collins looking heady in pink.


Another looking shocking in pink.


Joan’s boyfriends, lovely day out for the pensioners.


A reminder of what’s to come.

It’s so blooming hot darlings this wilting wall flower would need countless refreshments en route. Do you think they’ll have sprinklers? One has always been partial to an old soak .


Daff lovers. Picking up tips, one thinks/hopes. Maybe an Oligarch or two.


Hat lovers.
One can’t resist. For next year darlings.
Will it/I need watering?



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